


202: Please and Thank You

by harlequin (julie)



Series: Season 2 [2]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-09-28
Updated: 2009-09-28
Packaged: 2017-11-06 10:47:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/417990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julie/pseuds/harlequin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin is surprised to find that Arthur has learned how to say ‘Please’.</p>
            </blockquote>





	202: Please and Thank You

♦

‘What is it with you and chest wounds?’ Merlin complained as he fastened the new bandage around Arthur’s chest the night after the tournament. ‘If it were more widely known you don’t have a heart, maybe they’d choose a different target.’

‘Oh, very amusing,’ Arthur responded in his driest tones. ‘Anyway, it’s not just chest wounds. I’ve lost count of all the head wounds and concussions I’ve suffered.’

‘It’s kind of sweet, isn’t it?’ Merlin observed brightly. ‘They think you have a brain as well.’

Arthur hardly even dignified this with a growl. ‘Come on. Help me into bed, would you? – _Ow!_ – _Help_ me, I said!’ Eventually he sank into the mattress with a sigh. ‘Oh, you’ve no idea how good that feels.’

Merlin stood there looking down at the prince, and smiled a bit wryly. ‘I do, actually.’

Arthur opened one eyelid just a sliver and considered him for a moment. ‘Ah yes. You used to sleep on the floor back home. How can you go back to that once you’ve slept in a proper bed?’

He shrugged. ‘I guess I never take it for granted, like you can. A bed is a luxury to be enjoyed when I can. Not something I rely on.’

A moment stretched in which Arthur did _not_ look at him. Merlin was just about to turn away to other duties, when the prince said, ‘Come on, then. Get on with it.’

‘Yes, sire,’ Merlin responded, trying to keep the grin out of his voice. He failed, of course – he could tell because Arthur was smirking smugly as Merlin unfastened Arthur’s britches.

‘You may as well enjoy one of the perks of the job.’

‘ _Yes_ , sire.’ He didn’t ask whether Arthur meant the bed or the prince himself. But Merlin noticed Arthur wincing as he wrestled the prat’s britches off him. ‘Arthur –’

‘Don’t start fussing again! I’m all right, damn you…’

‘Perhaps we shouldn’t do this tonight.’ Once the prince was naked, Merlin stood there surveying not only the bandaged wound on the right side of Arthur’s chest, but the recently healed wound on his left, and the bruising he’d suffered in the jousting. ‘Perhaps you should rest.’

‘I’ll just lie here as usual, you do the work, we’ll be fine.’

‘Arthur…’

The prince finally opened his eyes. ‘Merlin, for heaven’s sake, stop being such a girl about it. Does it _look_ like I’m not capable?’

Merlin gazed down at the hard evidence of Arthur’s interest rising before him. ‘I take your point.’

‘That’s the plan,’ Arthur drolly agreed. They caught each other’s glances, and burst into snickering giggles.

And the thing was, Merlin agreed that it was a _good_ plan. He started discarding his own clothes. Usually he didn’t do that until he was on the bed and had already started working on the prince’s pleasure, but tonight he figured it was best to disturb Arthur as little as possible. Once he was done, once he was naked and displaying his own hard evidence, Merlin went to snuff the candles on the table. He was aware of Arthur watching him as he walked back.

Just as he was about to climb up onto the bed and straddle Arthur’s thighs, the prince spoke. ‘Wait. Help me sit up a bit.’

Merlin shrugged. Usually Arthur lay flat on his back throughout the whole thing, but perhaps this would make him more comfortable. Between them they got Arthur propped almost upright against the three biggest pillows. Then Merlin clambered up without managing to knee Arthur anywhere too tender, and he bent to take the royal cock into his mouth.

‘Wait.’

Merlin paused. Slowly straightened up to find the prince watching him intently. A bit warily. A bit frownily. ‘Yes, sire?’

A long moment crawled by. ‘Merlin –’

‘Mmm…?’

‘Is this something – Are these duties – these _particular_ duties – Is this something you would _choose_ to do?’

Merlin just stared at the prat. Finally he said, ‘You ask me that now?’

‘Yes.’

‘After all these months?’

‘Ah.’ Arthur glanced away.

‘And you really think I would do this with you if I didn’t want to?’

Arthur’s gaze returned.

‘What do you take me for?’ Merlin held up a hand. ‘Actually, don’t answer that. I don’t think I want to know.’

‘Merlin –’

He gestured down at himself in frustration. ‘Does it _look_ like I’m not enjoying this?’

‘Mmm,’ said Arthur. ‘I do take your point.’

Merlin snorted, as he was meant to. ‘That’ll be the day!’ He laughed as Arthur grinned wryly at him, and then when they’d sobered again, he continued, ‘Why ask me now? What’s happened?’

‘Nothing. Never mind. Let’s get on with it, shall we?’

After a moment, Merlin shrugged, and got on with it. Soon he was full of Arthur, letting his head fall back as he lifted and fell, lifted and fell, giving himself over and over again to his destiny. Arthur’s hands grasped his knees, and then began sliding up, up, his thumbpads pushing up the inside of Merlin’s thighs, unerringly, boldly continuing until they pressed against him up under his balls in an intimacy so exquisite it was almost painful. _‘Arthur…’_ he whispered.

‘Merlin…’ And after a moment, hoarsely, ‘Please.’

Merlin’s eyes flew open – and his breath was snatched away by the sight of the prince leaning forward, his blue eyes warily warm and his mouth raised for a kiss. They’d hardly ever kissed. Merlin carefully lay his hands on Arthur’s bruised shoulders for balance and bent forward, losing the inevitability of his rhythm now, but moving, still moving – and their mouths met and meshed, oddly gentle, unexpectedly generous.

 _‘Please,’_ Arthur murmured into the kiss – and with his fingers still splayed at the top of Merlin’s thighs, Arthur’s thumbs swept strong up and over Merlin’s balls, up the hard length of his cock – and Merlin was coming, his seed fountaining out, his head plummeting back despite himself – Arthur grasping his hips, keeping him there, driving up into him with a shout – Merlin’s arms flung out to either side –

And then when Merlin could he collapsed forward again, mouth blindly seeking Arthur’s mouth, wanting more kisses, more words, more sweetness. And Arthur was the same, for once he was wanting exactly the same.

Eventually they quietened, and Merlin slid off, slipped in to lie under Arthur’s left arm, to press himself close. ‘That was nice,’ he commented once they’d both got their breath back.

‘Nice!’ Arthur exclaimed. ‘I should think it was rather better than _nice_.’

Merlin grinned up at him. ‘It was _very_ nice, thank you. My lord,’ he added after a provocatively timed pause.

Arthur just chuckled, and ran his left hand up Merlin’s back, shaped the palm to Merlin’s nape, wove his fingers into Merlin’s thick hair. ‘Stay here tonight, would you? I could do with the extra warmth. Ease the ache of my bruises.’

‘Yes, sire,’ Merlin sighed, settling in closer. Heavy and drowsy in the aftermath of pleasure, and he couldn’t quit smiling.

‘Don’t get too comfortable,’ Arthur advised. ‘You need to snuff those last candles. And help me lie down properly again.’

‘Yes, sire.’ He obeyed willingly enough. Especially as once he returned to the bed, Arthur let him snuggle in close again.

Merlin soon drifted off into sleep, hardly even noticing when Arthur shifted around within his arms so that Merlin was spooning him, wrapping him up warmly, body and soul. It was probably just a dream that as Arthur moved, and the bed creaked in a familiar comfortable protest, the prince murmured, ‘Thank you, Merlin.’

It was probably just a night fancy. That sort of thing never happened. Nevertheless, Merlin pressed a sleepy kiss to Arthur’s shoulder–blade, and he whispered, ‘You’re welcome.’ The prince’s skin warm beneath his cheek.

‘Go to sleep, Merlin, for god’s sake,’ Arthur grumbled.

‘Yes, sire.’ And he did.

♦


End file.
